There are times when I feel like my husband and I are getting pretty good at parenting.

We swaddled our newborn like pros. We can suction the snot out of Baby Girl’s nose without eliciting even a whimper. Having a baby has made us multi-tasking masters.

But recently I was not patting myself on the back for my parenting genius. No, I hit a low. And, even worse, I was caught in the act.

We had weekend plans. I left plenty of time so both Baby Girl and I would be ready to head out the door at a certain time. As the clock counted down, I realized I had to speed up the process or I would be heading out the door in a bathrobe with wet hair and no make-up. Every time I set Baby Girl down, she would holler. I tried to amuse her from afar. I gave her all her favorite toys. I sang. I danced (not the easiest thing to do while applying mascara). She hollered louder.

As a last resort, I turned on the television. As soon as Baby Girl heard the squeaky voices of animated characters, she snapped to...

There are many reasons we steer our children into certain sports. Love of the game, location, cost, schedule. Valid reasons, all of them, but I've got another idea: Think about the smell, and then pick swimming.

I have no swimmers in my house, but swimming seems to have the advantage of being self-cleaning and minimalist. Swimming is goggles, towel and skimpy suit. I could fit that in an over-sized purse. Sure, there may be that tell-tale whiff of chlorine, but to that I'd say, So what?

I have a hockey player. Which is great in many ways, except that there is so much hockey stuff, a giant, hard-to-carry bag worth. And almost all of it smells awful. And that stuff must be lugged around and then cared for, cleaned, dried, stored in my home. Google "smelly hockey equipment" to confirm, in about gazillion hits, that the stench of hockey is the stuff of legend, of magazine articles, of home remedies.

In hindsight, I should have considered smell. In a do over, he'd swim. (Except that he...

Most of my memories of my first month of motherhood are a blur. But a few things I remember very clearly:

Going from the focus to forgotten. Once I was discharged from the hospital after the birth of Baby Girl, I went from 9 months of being the focus to feeling invisible. I placed my precious Baby Girl on a pedestal which left no room for me. However it didn’t take long to find my new place in the world…

… That place was the milk factory. Breastfeeding is hard -- really hard. There is no way to know if the little one is getting enough milk. Cracked, sore nipples are no treat. The first few weeks I didn't feel like a mom. I was the Milk Factory … and I needed to be open for service constantly. No matter when I held Baby Girl, she wanted to eat. Although I enjoyed our one-on-one time, I loved watching my husband, family and friends ooh and aah over her. It allowed me to gaze at my perfect Baby Girl from a distance. And it allowed the Milk Factory to temporarily close for business.

After 17 years with the Orlando Sentinel, in various positions, today is my last day and my final post for Moms at Work.

My family is relocating to another state be near extended family just in time for our son to start middle school.

It's a bittersweet time, but we know moving is what is best for our entire family. And we are all excited about the future.

It's probably never a great time to move a tween, but it seems best before middle school.

It's time to start a new chapter in life with new scenery, employment, friendships, but it does help having close family within walking distance.

And if all that isn't enough, there's also a Starbucks in walking distance.

I want to thank everyone for reading, commenting on everything from IEPs to haircuts and even hating on me for not letting my son use Axe over the past few years. Just so you know, he uses the deodorant now. I hope this pleases everyone :)